My latest post at AmazingCatechists.com: How do you share R-rated saints in a G-rated classroom?
(Well, sometimes you don’t. But most of the time — St. Maria Goretti sit down — most of the time, you can. The trick is in preparing ahead of time to avert disaster.)
Thanks once again to our host Larry D. at Acts of the Apostasy, who is nothing if not good for Death Star-themed humor.
1.
SuperHusband took the relatively healthy contingent to the family reunion [Bethune Homesteaders spared infection — castle residents went straight to our ancestral family’s farm, Curley family kept safe] and I stayed home with the weekend’s victims. Got a lot of writing done, that’s nice. But look, Barbecue!
2.
Having spent a weekend holed up in quarantine with an iPod, the Boy returned to the land of the living in order to show me this:
3.
And also this:
3.5
Not half a take, but themed on the halves: You’ll be pleased to know that while I learn slowly, I do eventually learn. Monday I promised my would-be publisher I could have the manuscript on the new, expanded, book-length version of the catechist booklet done by June 30th — and assured her that I what meant was “I plan to have it done by the 15th, so there’s two weeks of padding in there.” Which I felt pretty good about saying, because I know I could get it done by the 1st.
See? Take the estimated time to completion and double it — twice. My operations management professor would be so proud.
Curiously, in checking those dates for the writing of this post, I accidentally set my computer’s clock ahead to June 29th. Don’t worry, I put it back.
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PS: Link day. Help yourself if you are so inclined. Though I can’t imagine there’s anything on the internet to top Barbecue-Zombie-Stormtrooper Day. Post as many as you want, but only one per comment or the spam dragon will eat you up and I’ll never even know.
Eric Sammons sent me a pdf review copy of his new book, Holiness for Everyone: The Practical Spirituality of St. Josemaria Escriva, not because we’ve ever met or even know each other on the internet, but, I gather, because I really liked his first book, Who is Jesus Christ? (Which I wholeheartedly recommend.) He’s smart that way. I like this one too.
What is isn’t: We have to start here, because it’s easy to guess wrong.
What it is:
St. Josemaria Escriva is a 20th century saint whose spirituality is very much in line with St. Therese of Lisieux, whose Story of a Soul was a bestseller during his formative years, and Blessed Theresa of Calcutta, who was his contemporary and likewise informed by the spirituality of St. Therese. Basic Catholic practical holiness — what you see in the lives of every saint across all of history.
St. Josemaria’s particular charism was the insistence that saintliness is not for the vowed religious only — an error of his time, and still a struggle among Catholics today. We tend today to either fall into the get-thee-to-a-nunnery trap, or just dismiss saintliness as something that hardly matters anyhow. St. Josemaria’s contention, and Eric Sammons’ as well, is that it is possible for you and I to actually be holy. And that there are specific steps we can take to cooperate with God’s grace in working towards that goal.
As with Who is Jesus Christ, Sammons’ text is packed with information and insight, but still approachable for the average reader. It covers similar territory as Christian Self-Mastery, but far more readable than that classic. I personally found every chapter to be helpful for me — life-changing, even.
Who would enjoy it? I’d recommend this for older teens and adults who want to be challenged with practical ways to grow in the Christian life. This is not mere inspiration: expect to be pushed to make specific resolutions about your prayer life and penitential practices. There are discussion questions at the end of every chapter, making this a great book club choice.
This would make an excellent post-confirmation course for 11th and 12th graders — either taught in a high school religion class, or as a parent-teen book study. (Also think: Post-RCIA discipleship group.) Because the text ties to free, online additional reading (Escriva, assorted Encyclicals), it would be easy to make a rounded-out senior-high religion curriculum using this book.
This is an ideal introduction to the writings of St. Josemaria Escriva. I picked up a (print) copy of The Way while I was reading this book, and coming to it already well-versed with how Catholic spiritual training works, I find The Way to be awesome. I’m thrilled to have been pointed in that direction. But I’d caution you: Do not read The Way without first reading Sammons’ book or some other similar work. Taken out of context, St. Josemaria’s collected comments are a recipe for scruples, misunderstanding, and stomping off in a fit of exasperation or despair. Combined with a healthy, balanced view of Christian spirituality, enlightened by a work like Sammons’, The Way becomes the perfect ’round-the-house spiritual cattle-prod — think Imitation of Christ, Football Coach Version.
Conclusion: Highly Recommended for Catholics for ready to grow in their spiritual life, and looking for an approachable, step-by-step walk through how to go about it.
My latest at CatholicMom.com: What Can You Learn from a Homeschooling Dropout? Because people who don’t homeschool have some good insights for those of us who do. Enjoy!
Thanks once again to our host Larry D. at Acts of the Apostasy, who’s got a time machine of his own going on this week.
1.
I finished reading Eric Sammons’ new book, and hey, it’s pretty good. A lot good, in fact, and a review is forthcoming. But today let me caution you: There’s a humility component to this holiness business.
Exhibit A:
Why do my renewed efforts at holiness always coincide with the arrival of a nasty evil throat-lung-stomach virus in our home? Doesn’t our Lord know I have important holiness work to do?
Exhibit B:
Why does a resolution to be more Therese-like and offer up little annoyances for some general heavenly purpose get transformed into:
1. A multiplication of petty annoyances, and a sudden intolerance for them?
2. A friend suddenly coming down with a horrid affliction (probable bone cancer — femur — please pray for Mrs. P) for which to offer all these things?
3. Thus destroying any sense of virtue I might have otherwise relished, and instead leaving me with a crotchety personality and the knowledge of just how petty it is?
So don’t say I didn’t warn you. Good book otherwise, though. Great book.
2.
I’m going to Dallas!!!!!!! Yes, all those exclamation points truly are needed. Because look, it’s like a giant crack convention:
A. The Catholic Writer’s Conference, which means meeting in person all the people I get to work with on the CWG blog, which really is that exciting because when you get to know these people . . . you want to get to know these people.
B. The Catholic Marketing Network Conference, which is code for “Catholic Bookstores”. Enough said.
C. And then in case I just wanted to be near the superstars of Catholic internet, there’s the Catholic New Media Conference right there as well.
Quadruple bonus: I double-checked the back cover of my copy of Happy Catholic, and sure enough, Julie Davis lives in Dallas. It says so right there. (I knew it was some place in Texas, but I can never keep Dallas and Houston straight, except to know that confusing the two means wow, a lot of driving time.) So maybe, just maybe, I’ll get to live out my dream of one day buying the woman a cup of coffee. Or something.
3.
So here’s the thing: What’s the etiquette on bringing books to be signed at these events? Because I don’t think I can carry that many books to Texas, and yet it would pain me, just pain me, to miss my chance to get some autographs. I’m so conflicted.
3.5
Because I met the guy — that’s why. Neat person.
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PS: Link day. Help yourself if you are so inclined. Post as many as you want, but only one per comment or the spam dragon will eat you up and I’ll never even know.
PPS: Thus far I myself appear to be spared the evil thing — I thought I was coming down with it last night, but this morning I’m good. So here’s your mission: Imagine you’ve already finished praying for Mrs. P and your other serious concerns . . . Would you consider offering up a little prayer for our family, that my other dream of seeing the Bethune Catholic homestead is not thwarted by more plague later in the week? I so want to go. I pass the place every non-plague year on the way to the family reunion, and I totally want to get a child to bake some brownies, and a different child to pack some airsoft guns, and stop in for an hour or two. Goodness I might even mix up the brownies myself.
I was about to ask that we’d also be miraculously able to attend religious ed tonight (last night of the year), but #2 came staggering into the study with glazed eyes and feverish misery, so I don’t think the virtue of prudence will let us get away with that, even if there were miraculous recoveries in the next six hours.
Thanks once again to our host Larry D. at Acts of the Apostasy, who is nothing if not capable of punching a man-card.
1.
Darwin reminded me I needed to write a Glock post. No blog is complete until you’ve done that. And look what I brought home from the library the other month, when I needed something completely different to get my mind off life for the weekend:
The boy took one look, and asked, “Why would Barrett write a book about Glocks??” He recognized the name of the CEO of a competitor, because um, because he did. Y chromosome on that child, confirmed.
I pointed him to the inside back cover. “I think it’s a different Barrett.” It is.
2.
Anyway, I enjoyed the book even more than I’d expected. Glock: The Rise of America’s Gun tells the story of Glock Inc. from the time Mr. Glock decided to try his hand at designing the weapon, through it’s rise as a market leader in the US, and into the human resources nightmare that ensued when radical success met original sin. Well told — Paul Barrett is a great story teller, and he explains the technical bits with the detail you need in order to understand the story, but without losing the non-technical audience.
As a business book, it is top-notch. Great look at the talent and plain old good fortune that made the company so successful — including some surprising twists in the gun control movement that helped spur sales and raise margins. Ideologically, Barrett is pretty firmly in the middle of the road on gun topics, and he keeps his politics out of all but a few annoying paragraphs of opinion* near the conclusion — you can just skim and move on.
Language caution: Don’t let the Amazon preview fool you, Barrett’s sources get quoted saying all kinds of words not allowed around my house. It isn’t overdone and I did not find it bothersome as an adult reader, but it’s not a g-rated book by a long shot.
As a morality tale, Glock is a brilliant study in human weakness, and the way that vice unchecked leads to perdition**. Barrett is Mr. Neutral through all of this — neither disturbed nor impressed by Glock’s sales tactics, other than to observe that they worked and they were legal. Turns out men are fairly predictable in certain realms.
–> For this reason, the book makes a great parent-teen book study . . . but only once your boy is already aware of the various perils men need negotiate. I held off on letting Mr. Boy read the book just yet.
3.
Why is it that it only takes 2 seconds to accidentally upload a profile pic on Twitter that, taken out of context, will totally horrify 98% of the people who have often suspected as much . . . but it takes about an hour to get Twitter to accept some innocuous substitute hiding in the same file folder? I suspect a plot to trap the careless.
3.5
Speaking of talented Catholic young men who like guns abridged anime – if you share the same interest, check out this guy: Mattroks 101’s You Tube channel. And with that you know more than I do, for I am utterly out of my depth on all things anime, except maybe you are wondering how I ended up linking such a thing . . .
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PS: Link day. Help yourself if you are so inclined. Post as many as you want, but only one per comment or the spam dragon will eat you up and I’ll never even know.
*It is possible that if you read here, you secretly enjoy reading annoying opinions. Good for you. There’s three or four paragraphs you’ll just love.
**Not just eternal souls, though of course those are not to be neglected. But also small things teens can appreciate, like your colleagues trying to kill you, stuff like that.
If you clicked on this page from Jen F.’s blogfest because you saw the Kolbe Reviews picture, click here to see the whole series. It was the most interesting picture I had, and plus I’m so excited about my new page where you can find them all in one place.
You regular readers who are completely, utterly sick of hearing about Kolbe by now, here are 7 Takes with never a mention of the K-word:
1.
When I got to page 24 of Holiness for Everyone, I e-mailed Eric Sammons. “If this hasn’t gone to print yet . . . there’ s a typo.” I figured he or some other person had already caught it, but if it were my book, I’d appreciate someone telling me, just to be sure. What I saw was this:
1) A long quote, indented.
The author’s words, introducing next long, indented quote.
2) The second quote.
So that in-between prose shouldn’t be indented, since it isn’t part of the quotes. Right?
Um, no. But he very graciously answered me, “Oh yes, we had the same question, but OSV assures us it is correct.” I did not hear a single snicker in that e-mail. I feel sure the man’s been practicing his holiness.
And I replied, using my super-special idiot powers, “Okay. That’s a really strange convention.” Ha. Those weird publishers. What are they thinking??
But at 5 in the morning, I woke up to my crazy-busy brain back to work in crazy-busy mode, and suddenly I knew the answer. Everything made sense. I was no longer mystified.
2.
Remember long, long ago, when you used the “Tab” key to start a new paragraph? And then you didn’t have to put a blank line between every paragraph?
They were thinking that.
A world utterly, utterly removed from the reality of blogging software. Never even occurred to me to check and confirm that I was reading a book with indented paragraphs.
3.
Consider that your little pre-review for today. I hope it isn’t too much of a spoiler.
4.
I just looked real quick, and the first five books I pulled off my shelf all had them too. Apparently it’s the big thing in Catholic Publishing.
Okay, so no it isn’t really a surprise, because at 5:05 I found myself marveling at the genius of it all. And longing, deeply longing, to know how much money they saved by not having to print all those blank lines. What a way to save paper!
5.
Lately I’ve taken to spelling “paragraph” with only one p, and typing “gh” instead of “ph” at the end. And then I have to fix it. I do not like this new typo. But I’m very grateful for the red squiggly line that catches it every time.
6.
I bet Allie Hathaway knows how to spell “paragraph”. Thanks for praying for her today.
7.
That upstart Larry D. is picking a fight with Patheos again, and for my part I just don’t care, other than to wonder who are these people who don’t like Mark Shea* and what is wrong with them?
But you know what I do care about? It relates to Patheos because this happens to people when they move to Patheos, but Mark Shea and Elizabeth Scalia are both proof that reform is possible. Now I can’t just e-mail every famous Catholic blogger to complain, because look I already have this reputation over the Indenting Fiasco, so I’m just going to say it here:
Fix your settings so your whole post gets sent to the feed reader.
Thank you Darwin, Bearing, Julie D., and every other sensible blogger whom I read faithfully, due in part to this one kind act.
Also: Make that little “subscribe to comments” check box show up in the combox.
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Thank you. Have a great weekend.
*Mark Shea writes books with indented paragraphs. Two P’s.
Thanks once again to our host Larry D. at Acts of the Apostasy putting the mmmmn in Church Militant since . . . well, awhile.
1.
You wanna know what’s better than bacon? Eric Sammons e-mailing to ask, “May I send you a review copy of my new book?”
I know! I couldn’t believe it either! I figured the SuperHusband must have driven to Florida in desperation, in order to beg a perfect stranger to please give his wife something, anything, that would help her grow in holiness. He would have observed that I already had a large collection of freebie plastic rosaries, so please did Mr. Sammons know of anything else that might help?
Another possible explanation is that since I liked the first book, maybe I’d like the next one, too.
2.
I worry sometimes that if I get too many review books, it will cause me to neglect my local Catholic bookstore. Fear not! The kids are taking care of us. For example – item #2 that’s better than bacon: This Sunday the “Roamin’ Catholic” bookmobile was parked at our parish. Yay! My favorite time of year! And the 4th grader spots this DVD and asks, “Please can we get this Mom?”
It’s a pretty simple formula: Child requests DVD about real-life Nazi-thwarting Secret Agent Nun? Mom says, “Um. Yes.” We haven’t watched it yet, though. I’ve been too busy yelling at the kids to clean the house growing in holiness.
3.
My biggest disappointment in reading Jack Chick tracts was the discovery that, through some bureaucratic snafu, I’d been cheated. If I really became a citizen of Vatican City the day I was baptized, where’s my passport??? Ah, but now my son has rectified my problem, and issued me my secret-agent ID:
Don’t worry, I’m still gonna carry my regular ID as well.
3.5
. . . delightful to read on a Sunday afternoon. See the review just below this post, or click here.
EDITED to add: And yeah, of course it’s link day. If you have one you want to share, we’re all eyes.
1.
Today for my Quick Takes I’m reviewing Sarah Reinhard’s new book, Catholic Family Fun. This is a stop on Sarah’s virtual book tour, so she should be lurking around the combox ready to answer any questions you have.
FYI, Sarah is not only a super-friendly person, she is also an extrovert, which means that her life as a writer is made tolerable by finding people to chat with. So say “Hi Sarah!”. She’ll be excited.
2.
This is what the book looks like:
It’s about 140 pages, paperback, nice sturdy glossy cover. It’s designed to float around your house and be abused.
3.
What’s inside?
You know how women’s magazines have those little articles about fun things to do with your family? This is like 10 years of those ideas all in one place. Only you are spared those obnoxious photos of pristine toaster ovens and closets organized by that sect of hermits who take a vow to own nothing but three pieces of splashy, sassy, ready-for-spring ensembles to pair with their strappy heels. Also, no perfume ads.
Instead you get page after page of practical, realistic ideas for unplugged family activities that you can customize to match your kids’ ages and interests. The chapters are organized by types of activities (crafts, meals, outdoor adventures, etc.), and there are several easy-to-read indexes in the back to help you quickly find the ones that match your budget and energy level. Most of the suggestions are either free, or involve money you were going to spend anyway. (You are going to eat today, right?)
Other than the chapters on prayer and on the saints, the activities themselves can be purely fun family time, or they can be explicitly tied to the Catholic faith. Every activity includes suggestions on how to make the faith connection.
4.
What if you aren’t crafty? Don’t panic on the crafts, there aren’t that many and they are very low-key. Indeed, I’d say this is the perfect book for people who don’t do glitter glue, foam art, or anything involving popsicle sticks, ever. Did I mention Sarah R. is a real mom of young children, with a farm, and a writing job, and . . . you get the picture. You may find yourself wanting an internet connection to pull off a few of these activities (I see you have access to one, very good), but no glue gun will ever be needed.
What if you are, in fact, the grumpy, curmudgeonly type? See the next section. I advise letting your kids pick the activities. That way you never need fear you’ve gotten all goofy and relaxed for nothing. Also you could tell the kids you aren’t going to do Chapters 1 and 2 yourself, but you’ll give them five bucks if they’ll just be quiet while your finish reading the paper. (Um, wait a minute. No, that’s not how the book’s supposed to work. Oops.) Chapters 3-9 are Curmudgeon-Safe, though the one idea about a backyard circus makes me a little nervous . . .
5.
Who could use this book? Three groups of people come to mind, and last was a surprise to me, but it’s true:
1. Parents, grandparents, and other relatives.
2. Kids. My daughter is fighting me for custody of our copy. The book is eminently readable, so you really can hand it to a late-elementary or older child, and say, “Pick something out for us to do Saturday.” I like that because then the onus is on the kids to decide which activity sounds fun — and I’m always surprised by what kids come up with when given the choice.
3. Catechists, VBS volunteers, scout leaders, and anyone else charged with keeping a group of kids busy for an hour or two. Some of the activities will only work in a family setting, but very many of them are well-suited to using in a classroom. The suggestions for faith tie-ins make this an awesome resource for religious ed and VBS. If your parish doesn’t have money for a high-priced pre-packaged program with talking pandas and cheesey chipmunk videos, you could seriously just go through this book and pick out activities to assemble a home-grown series of your own.
6.
You know who loves a good VBS program? Allie Hathaway. It’s Friday, so we’re praying for her. And hey, offer up a quick one for Sarah Reinhard’s intentions as well. Thanks!
7.
What else do you want to know? I’ve wrestled the book out of my daughter’s hands, so I’m happy to look stuff up and answer questions. Sarah’s around here somewhere, and if she doesn’t get to you today, she’s a very reliable combox-attender, so feel free to ask her questions as well.
You can also take a look at the Catholic Family Fun Facebook page, where people are sharing ideas, and the Catholic Family Fun website at Pauline Media, where if you click around there are a pile of useful resources in case maybe you don’t know any camp songs or g-rated knock-knock jokes.
PS: This and a package of pre-cooked bacon would make a great Mother’s Day gift.
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Updated to toss in three bits of full disclosure, which together give the most accurate picture:
7.1) Pauline Media sent me a review copy.
7.2) You might have caught on, Sarah & I are friends, and perhaps you’ve noticed we work together at the CWG blog. Which means that if she wrote a lousy book, I just wouldn’t review it. I’m very grateful she doesn’t write lousy books, because that saves us a lot of awkward moments.
7.3) See “free book” above. I gave a copy of this book to my DRE, who is a mom and grandma of 10 bazillion children, and always griping observing that all the grandkids do is play Angry Birds. I knew she’d love to pass it around her family, and I was thrilled to see she could use it for religious ed ideas too. But you know what? I did not give her my free copy. See, that’s what I would have done if this was a so-so book. Instead, I paid cash to buy her a brand new copy of her own.
Hey and a gratuitous 7.4: Let’s just clarify: If you want a collection of pom-pom art ideas, this is not your book.
My Hail Mary post at Sarah R.’s place is up. What I discovered writing it, is that I’d been looking at this question of feminine genius all backward. Our culture wants us to look at men, and try to guess how women compare. But just ask Adam — it’s the other way around. He was adrift until he discovered Eve. What, after all, is the purpose of tending the garden and taking care of creation, and all the other amazing and wonderful things guys do? What is the work of Christ, the bridegroom, done in service to His bride, the Church? He makes her mission possible. That is, Christ and the Church have a single mission.
BTW I stuck the photo up big, here, so you can see that girl-smile. It doesn’t quite come across when posted in moderation, the way sensible blog-owners do.
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I’ve got an article in the new issue of Mater et Magistra. I haven’t seen the final (edited) version, so I can’t tell you exactly all the parts that made the cut. [You never know how many words there will be room for, once all the articles for the month are gathered together. So I submitted my article divided into sub-sections so it would be easy to edit down in chunks.]
But anyhow, it’s pure accountant-frugality meets homeschool-desperation: How do you decide what books to buy? Don’t panic, I don’t advise anyone to act like I do and buy waaaaaay too many books. Instead I actually talked with a bunch of much more sensible and practical homeschool moms, and found out what does and does not work in real life, for staying sane and under-budget, and still getting school done.
Let me know what you think when you read it, I’ll happily post your thoughts here.
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I haven’t figured out how to get my Amazing Catechists feed working quite right, but one day I will. Meanwhile, I posted about Journals & the Sacrament of Confession this week. Because a real live human being (who I don’t know personally, and I have no idea when or where or how the incident took place) asked my opinion on this:
Is it appropriate for religion teachers to ask students about their sins? In my friend’s religion class, the teacher asked him to write in his journal about one of the sins he would be confessing at his next confession. What do you think?
No, seriously. I didn’t make that up. I can write fiction, but there are limits. And anyway, I don’t do horror.